


Paradise-99

by kuhaperuna



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Holiday Resorts, F/F, F/M, Gen, I don't know what I'm doing but I'm loving it anyway, Jake and Amy are the Romeo and Juliet of holiday resorts, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29137632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuhaperuna/pseuds/kuhaperuna
Summary: "Santa Marina is the closest thing to paradise you’ll get on the planet. It sits at the tip of Florida, only a drive away from the bustle of Miami. A nearly two mile long white beach, named after the town itself, stretches along Paradise Bay and offers water-sports and leisure under the sun. With dozens of hotels and Airbnbs to choose from whether you’re on budget or not, there’s really no excuse to not visit the most beautiful seaside town the US has to offer!That’s roughly what every pamphlet at the info says, but in Jake’s mind Santa Marina is a tourist attraction first, town second. Meaning, everything from the resorts to the bars to the cheesy souvenir shops are aimed toward rude, white middle-class families. And they’re obnoxious."
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Kevin Cozner/Ray Holt, Rosa Diaz/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. maybe you should try to be successful and busy

**Author's Note:**

> Yes hello, I couldn't get this idea out of my head so here it is. Santa Marina and Paradise Bay are just places I came up with, if there are places with the same names (which is pretty likely, I guess) it's purely coincidental.

Santa Marina is the closest thing to paradise you’ll get on the planet. It sits at the tip of Florida, only a drive away from the bustle of Miami. A nearly two mile long white beach, named after the town itself, stretches along Paradise Bay and offers water-sports and leisure under the sun. With dozens of hotels and Airbnbs to choose from whether you’re on budget or not, there’s really no excuse to not visit the most beautiful seaside town the US has to offer!

That’s roughly what every pamphlet at the info says, but in Jake’s mind Santa Marina is a tourist attraction first, town second. Meaning, everything from the resorts to the bars to the cheesy souvenir shops are aimed toward rude, white middle-class families. And they’re obnoxious.

“When I called _months_ ago I said I wanted the rooms by 11am! And what do you know, as we arrive at the hotel — precisely on time, if I may add — we are told they’re being cleaned. We were supposed to have brunch at The Laguna fifteen minutes ago!” the posh English woman who brought her family in twenty minutes ago screams at his face.

“Listen, I can’t help you with that. We informed the hotel what time you wanted your rooms. There must’ve been some sort of mix-up, but I—“ He’s interrupted by one of the lady’s kids screeching so loud his ears ring for minutes.

The woman takes the opportunity to continue complaining. “We made the reservation three weeks ago, do you know how hard it is to get one at that restaurant? It’s five stars for a reason, young man, and my children are starving. What do you suggest, that we eat at a— at a McDonalds?”

“Hey, listen,” Jake interrupts before she can continue. “I have a friend who has some pull at an awesome restaurant. It might not be The Laguna but it’s _up there_. I bet I could get you a table right away and let’s be real, with my charms? A twenty percent discount, _minimum_.”

“What is it?” asks the lady snootily.

“Aurora Dining — I know, sounds pretentious, but it’ll beat The Laguna any day—“

“The one at Paradise-99?” the lady asks impatiently.

“Yes!” Jake exclaims, probably a little too loudly.

“We did consider that resort, darling,” says the woman’s withered husband. He must be at least twenty years older than her, and wears white socks under his sandals.

“We did, didn’t we…” his wife muses.

“And I bet they would’ve had your rooms ready in time,” Jake suggests, and that’s that’s the final straw. Something flashes in the lady’s eyes, and he knows he’s done it once again.

“Fine. Call your restaurant,” she says as one of her girls pulls at her sundress demandingly.

“Fantastic, I’ll be with you right away!” Jake says and disappears into the back room.

It’s a small and humid room, filled to the brim with boxes and shelves so there’s barely any space to stand. There’s a tiny window in one corner, but opening it wouldn’t do any good because the air outside isn’t much better.

Jake fishes his battered phone out of his shorts pocket and calls Charles. He knows he shouldn’t, because Charles is always busy at work these days, but he never ignores Jake’s calls so he has to try.

“Jake?” Charles answers almost immediately. Jake can hear the bustle of Charles’ kitchen in the background.

“Charles! My main man! Listen, buddy, I’ve got a favour to ask of you,” Jake greets quickly. He can’t see his customers, but he can practically feel them glaring through the wall at him.

“Jake, I’ve told you before, I can’t borrow Nikolaj to you just so you can pretend to be a single dad,” Charles says tiredly.

“It’s not ‘just pretending’, I’d also be getting ladies and dudes left and right,” Jake scoffs. “But that’s not the point, I’m not asking about that.”

“What is it, then?” Charles asks.

“I need a table for six. Right now,” Jake says.

“What?!” Charles exclaims. “I can’t do that, we’re fully booked!”

“Please Charles, you’re my best friend and I don’t know how else to get rid of these people!” Jake moans.

“Alright, fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, thank god, I love you man. I owe you one!”

“Yeah, yeah. You should probably look for a new job if you hate this one so much, you know.”

—

It’s nearing eight o’clock when Jake locks up and leaves the tourist info. The one thing he does like about his job is that it’s right next to the bars (mainly because everything is next to a bar in Santa Marina) and he gets off just in time for a couple of drinks.

Shaw’s is his go-to. It’s the least popular with tourists, and frequented by the people who actually live in town. He hasn’t seen the owner a single time, but Rosa Diaz bounces and barkeeps regularly and she’s become somewhat of a friend to him. Well, as much of a friend as Rosa Diaz allows herself to be to anyone.

She’s behind the bar tonight, dressed in her usual leather jacket. To this day, Jake doesn’t understand how she can wear it without sweating.

It’s not busy yet, so there’s no one sitting at the bar except for an unfamiliar woman. Jake assumes she’s just a lost tourist. He sits on the opposite end from her and asks Rosa for a beer.

“Who is she?” he asks, nodding towards the woman. She’s reading a book, which is a weird enough activity to engage in at a bar, and drinking a gin and tonic instead of the cheap tropical drinks that tourists favour at the other bars.

“How should I know?” Rosa grunts as she uncaps the bottle for him.

“I don’t know, you’re a bartender, shouldn’t you know everyone’s problems?” Jake says.

“Just because I know yours doesn’t mean I want to,” Rosa says expressionlessly.

“Ouch,” Jake hisses.

“If you’re so curious, why don’t you just ask her?” Rosa says.

“Because I don’t wanna be that creepy guy who hits on the only woman at the bar,” Jake says matter-of-factly.

“There’s always Hitchcock and Scully, if you wanna hit on them,” Rosa suggests and nods towards the regulars who sit at their usual table in the corner with their little umbrella drinks and KFC buckets. No one knows whether they actually live in town of if they’re just always on vacation, but they frequent Shaw’s because Rosa lets them bring their own food.

“Please don’t say that ever again,” Jake pleads as he watches Scully scratch at his very visible ass crack. Then he turns back to Rosa and says: “Anyway, Charles seems pretty happy at work.”

“Isn’t it his dream job? You should be happy for him,” Rosa says without a hint of a smile.

“I am, but I never see him anymore,” Jake complains. “We used to hang out here all the time, and now he’s all… successful and busy.”

“Maybe you should try to be successful and busy,” Rosa says mercilessly.

“Hey, I am plenty successful. I’m almost done with my screenplay,” he says, slightly offended. Rosa quirks an eyebrow at him and he admits: “Sure, I’m still missing a title and some plot and I need to actually write it, but the idea is there, okay? And it’s badass.”

“Aren’t there enough cop shows?” Rosa asks.

“This one is funny _and_ badass,” Jake pitches. “Josh Perrault, a former class clown, now Miami’s smartest detective. He’s hot, he’s funny, and he’s got a secret—”

“Is the secret that he’s a massive douche?” says the woman at the other side of the bar. She has put her book down and is looking at Jake, very unimpressed.

“No,” Jake scoffs. He’s pretty sure he hears Rosa snort.

“Oh yeah?” the woman says, raising her eyebrows challengingly. “What are his motives?”

“He, uh… His parents were mugged and killed,” Jake says.

“That’s Batman,” the woman deadpans.

“Hey, you know your comics!” Jake says.

“Everyone knows how Batman’s parents died,” Rosa cuts in. Jake shushes her angrily and she rolls her eyes.

“Let me guess. There’s a new love interest every episode, either a damsel in distress or a badass woman he underestimates and then falls in love with,” the woman says.

“No, but that’s genius,” Jake gasps and types it down on his notes app. The cracks on his screen make ‘damsel’ look like ‘Bam$et’.

“It wasn’t a suggestion, idiot, it’s what happens in every single cop show that exists,” the woman says.

“Yeah, well obviously it works,” Jake argues.

“No one wants to see that anymore,” she says louder.

“Title of your sex tape! Also, it would be about more than that!” Jake says.

“Like what?” she challenges, ignoring the first comment.

“Uh, jokes, obviously, but I guess you wouldn’t know about those,” Jake says.

“I know plenty of jokes. I’m talking to one right now,” she says calmly.

“That’s cold,” Rosa comments amusedly as Jake gapes like a fish out of water. The woman scoffs one more time, finishes her drink and walks out of the bar.

“Why was she so mean to me?” Jake asks in a high-pitched voice as he watches the door slam shut.

“Your show does sound kinda lame,” Rosa says. “Actually, not even kinda. It just sounds lame.”

“Rosa! I thought you supported my creative visions!” Jake wheezes.

“I never said that,” Rosa says with a shrug. Jake slumps and orders another beer.

—

Jake ends up having one too many that night, and when he’s back at the front desk at work the next day he wishes for once that he could be one of his customers, able to dip his toes in water and have mimosas before lunchtime and an air-conditioned room to go back to when the air gets too humid.

But no, he’s stuck here listening to an elderly Swedish couple debate where they want to get a couple’s massage. He doesn’t envy whoever has to work their way through the man’s knots; his posture is so crooked he’s almost a head shorter than Jake.

“I’ve heard Paradise-99 has a pretty good place,” Jake says truthfully. Charles got a free deep tissue massage and a facial as a workplace perk recently, and apparently it had been life changing. Jake doesn’t believe in that stuff — the thought of having someone’s hands on his naked body in a non-sexual way is not appealing, thank you very much — but that doesn’t stop him from selling it.

“What’s that? Never heard of it,” the woman says in a slightly nasally voice.

“It’s, uh, it’s this new resort. Opened a few months ago, they’ve got a great restaurant too,” Jake says because as annoying as Charles can be sometimes, he’s his best friend and he will hype him up to the end of his days.

“Is it one of those, uh… youth-hipster places?” the man asks.

“I don’t think so,” Jake says slowly. He’s not entirely sure; he’s never set a foot there, except for that one time he had to get his spare keys from Charles.

“We’ll get it done there, then,” the woman decides, and the man nods in agreement. Jake books them an appointment with a Terry Jeffords and — either his wife or sister, Jake assumes — Sharon Jeffords.


	2. basketball courts and vending machines

“Hey, you know how I got that table for you last week and you said you’d owe me?” Charles asks one night at Shaw’s. It’s busier tonight, and luckily the woman with the book and the gin and tonic is nowhere to be seen this time.

“Yeeeees,” Jake says slowly.

“Well, you see, we’ve been looking for someone to jazz the place up a little,” Charles starts excitedly. He’s got that same voice going on as he does whenever he talks about a particularly strange dish.

“Look, I’m flattered but I don’t think I’m the right person to, uh, jazz the place up,” Jake says.

“But that’s the thing, I think you’d be brilliant! And it’d be such a good opportunity for you too, get you out of that miserable info,” Charles says. Jake considers it; he _has_ been trying to find a new job, but not a lot of people want a college dropout whose only experience is at the cheapest tourist info in town.

“Yeah, I don’t know… I don’t have the experience for it, I wouldn’t get past the first interview,” Jake says.

“You know what the people really want, Jake! I’ve already put in a word with Captain Holt and he agreed to take you in for a trial run. Please, it would be great to work with you again!” Charles pleads, and Jake sighs.

“Fine. But I still think it’s weird that you call your boss Captain,” he says defeatedly.

—

Captain Holt, as Charles likes to call him, is comedically serious. Jake talks to him for five minutes, tops, and he doesn’t think he wants to ever have a conversation with the man again. He’s not too into falling asleep mid-conversation, he’s not that rude.

Holt wants him to talk to someone called Gina Linetti about his job. Gina Linetti is a bored-looking — which, Jake supposes, is an improvement from boring-looking — woman at the front desk.

“Jake Peralta… You’ve been booking some stuff from us, haven’t you?” Gina drawls when he introduces himself.

“Yeah, I worked at the tourist info down… uh, _way_ down the street,” Jake says.

“That explains it,” Gina says casually.

“Anyway, Holt wanted you to tell me what I’m supposed to do, so…”

“Yeah, of course. Come on this way, mister.”

Someone else magically appears to replace Gina’s spot at the desk the second she stands up. Then, she tells Jake to follow her and they start touring the resort.

“In my humble opinion, I don’t understand why he didn’t just hire me for the job,” Gina says as they enter a sleek elevator.

“Maybe because you already have one?” Jake suggests.

Gina looks at him like he’s insane. “You’re on thin fucking ice, buddy.” They exit the elevator on fourth floor, on which Jake remembers Charles’ restaurant being. “Our resort is pretty new. We opened, like, three months ago or something, and we’re doing alright when you take that into consideration. But we’re competing with the Santiago family, so Captain Holt needs to up his game.”

“Yeah, he didn’t seem like the sort to come up with lots of fun activities for guests,” Jake comments. They pass Charles’ restaurant, and it’s fully booked. Jake feels his heart swell with pride, just a little.

“He’s not. That’s where you come in. You need to turn the resort experience into an… _experience_ , if you know what I mean,” Gina continues, and Jake has a feeling she might be high. But hey, who is he to judge.

“So like, what, theme nights and game rooms?” Jake asks. “Because that I can do, but I don’t know crap about management or anything like that.”

“Oh, my dear boy, we have management covered head to toe!” Gina says dramatically. “You… _You_ are our creative visionary.”

“Why do you people think I’d be any good at that?” Jake asks because honestly, he might be writing the best cop show the world will ever see, but that’s all the creative juice he can squeeze out of his brains.

“Boyle says you’re our best bet, and for some reason Captain Holt trusts him,” Gina says and rolls her eyes. They’re walking through some sort of indoor-outdoor lobby now, where Jake can see the bay through immaculately clean floor-to-ceiling windows and feels a fresh breeze. There are empty couches and coffee tables in the space and they look comfy enough, but it just feels… boring.

“Uh, okay. Yeah, I can see why you’d need help,” he says as he looks around. He can see a few guests, but they’re just important-looking people in suits working on their MacBook Pros and looking almost as sour as Captain Holt. No one’s laughing or relaxing like, in Jake’s mind, one should at a hotel.

“Bringing in more guests and reviews is our number one priority this upcoming season, no matter the cost so feel free to go crazy as long as it gives us positive ratings,” Gina says. They’re exiting the weird aquarium-lobby and are now walking along a brightly lit hallway.

“So you’re willing to lose a bunch of money? Why?” Jake asks, frowning.

“Like I said, we’re competing against the Santiago family. Captain Holt has some weird rivalry with them, I dunno what that’s all about,” Gina says and shrugs.

“Wait, the Brooklyn Resorts? They’re, like…” Jake stammers.

“The fanciest hotel chain in the country?” Gina finishes for him. “Yeah, they’re gonna be a tough cookie to crack.”

“And you’re just gonna let _me_ try to help with that?” Jake says.

“No, pretty boy, we’re giving you a week to show us what you’ve got and if you succeed…” Gina stops and pauses for a dramatic effect. She looks at him in the eyes, and he’s a little scared. “You’ll be in for the time of your life.”

—

Jake agrees to take the trial week; he’d be stupid not to. If he does impress Captain Holt, he gets his own room, free food, awesome perks and even awesome-er pay-checks. He knows awesome-er isn’t a word, but this is the one situation it applies to.

He’s given an office, which isn’t something he has ever imagined having because offices are for… well, for people like his dad. Jake’s office is the size of the tourist info he still technically works at, and it has massive windows. He can see the whole bay. The floor is shiny hardwood, but most of it is covered by the softest, plushest rug Jake has ever touched.

On one of the walls that isn’t glass, there’s a big whiteboard with magnets and sharpies galore. (Oh, he’s going to draw _so_ many dicks on that thing.) There’s also a bookshelf full of empty notebooks and binders as well as guides to whatever the hell he’s supposed to do.

The desk is neat, for now. On it is an expensive-looking planner, fountain pens, a coffee mug with the resort’s logo on it. There’s no coffee maker in sight, so Jake assumes he can just tell the assistant Gina introduced him to to bring him some whenever he wants. The chair is one of those super ergonomic ones, and when he sits on it he feels like his back is getting a break for the first time in his life.

He sighs and leans back, spins a couple of times. He looks through the windows, spins back to face his desk, and then spins a few more times. He opens one of the notebooks and scribbles a couple of dicks and a set of boobs. Then, he turns the page and writes a title:

_BRAINSTORMING FOR IDEAS_

He spins the fountain pen between his fingers. He puts it under his nose and pouts to make it into a moustache. He draws one more penis, this one short and girth-y with extremely hairy balls.

“Balls,” he mutters to himself, and writes:

_Basketball court_

He doesn’t get a single idea after that, and spends the next hour spinning in his chair and drawing dicks with basketballs as testicles on the next page. That’s when Charles bursts in without a warning.

“Jake!” he greets. “So, how’s your first day as a creative visionary going?”

“Uh, great,” Jake lies and tries to hide his notebook.

Charles notices and grins cheekily. “Smart,” he says, tapping his temple. “I never share my ideas either until I’ve thought them through.”

Jake knows for a fact that it isn’t true, but he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he says: “Yeah, I’ve been just brainstorming anyway. You know, just… getting them out there.”

“Oh, I knew you could do it, Jake! Look at you, already oozing with imagination,” Charles sighs proudly.

“I thought we agreed that you shouldn’t use the word ‘ooze’ in any context, ever,” Jake says and makes a face.

“Sorry,” Charles says, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Okay, can I have one peek? The curiosity is killing me, give me something!”

“I, uh…” Jake glances at his notebook and says: “A basketball court…?”

“Oh, that’s brilliant! That’s exactly the kind of stuff we want from you, I couldn’t be more proud!” Charles gushes, and Jake feels a little better even though he would’ve gushed about a damn vending machine. _‘Hey, there’s an idea…’_ he says and writes it down discreetly.

—

Terry thinks it all sounded great on paper. He’d get to do meal plans, be a personal trainer, launch his own protein shake if he wanted to, whatever the hell he fancied! But the unfortunate reality is that most of their customers haven’t been interested in anything at the wellness centre except for massages and, occasionally, skincare.

“Captain Holt’s got that new guy to shake things up,” Sharon comforts him. “I bet if you ask him, he’ll figure something out.”

He does, but the new guy is a joke. He looks so out of place that Terry thinks he’s a guest at first. He looks like he’s straight out of college (whether he graduated or not, Terry’s not sure he wants to know) and has drawn multiple sets of boobs on the whiteboard. At least Terry has to give him props for making them diverse.

“Are you Peralta?” Terry asks warily.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Peralta quips.

“Listen, I’m the head of the wellness centre here and I figured I could make a few suggestions,” Terry says. He glances at the boobs again and adds: “If you’re not busy, that is.”

“Oh, no, you’re _so_ welcome to share your ideas! Please, sit down,” Peralta says almost desperately.

“Okay, so I thought it’d be fun if we could add some more fitness related stuff…”

—

By the time Jake’s unpaid “work day” is over, his list has grown long enough to cover the whole page. It’s mostly because the dicks and the boobs take a lot of space, but that’s not the point. It looks something like this:

_BRAINSTORMING FOR IDEAS_

_Basketball court_

_More vending machines  
(the kind with panties?)_

_Protein shake bar_

_Exercise stuff that doesn’t make you wanna kill yourself_

_Movie theatre  
(Die Hard night every Saturday)_

_~~Die Hard theme nights~~  
_ _Theme nights_

_Pool bar_

_Bean bag chairs_

It’s not much, but he’s pretty proud of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look I have no idea how hotels work, I'm just here for a good time


End file.
